A Guide to Follow
by Some-H
Summary: And so, Apollo used the skills and rules, somewhat like a guide, to dazzle his young Oracle…skirting around the ‘swear off men’ vow she made." ShadowPalace and WindowChild's PJO One-Shot Challenge Week 6


A Guide to Follow

It is doubt that Apollo, god of the sun, prophecies, music, and a bunch-of-other-cool-stuff-that-his-sister-believes-is-a-waste-of-time-other-than-archery, spends a lot of time with girls.

And you'd think after a couple of centuries he would understand mortal teenage girls completely. Unfortunately for him, everything he knew about that particular gender went crashing down when he met Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

He liked this girl the minute she spewed out green mist and the ancient words of another up and coming end of the world prophecy. There was certainly something about her… and he could not put a finger on it. Was it her fiery attitude or her ridiculously gorgeous looks? Was it her unusual style of clothing or her attempt to stand out? Maybe it was her love of music—her taste in music, his field as he would say it, was pretty good.

And so, he used the skills and rules (somewhat like a guide) to dazzle his young Oracle…skirting around the 'swear off men' vow she made. How disgustingly like his sister.

_5.) Be nice._

It was a simple rule, really. Apollo became a sudden gentleman around the suspicious Rachel. She was use to being extremely respectful—in fear of being fried, of course—and sometimes, their rare exchange of witty comments.

She knew something was definitely wrong when he agreed to fly her to Camp Half Blood in his slick, envy of every teenage boy, sun car.

"Are you sure?" she asked, tilting her head. She pulled at her collar, gray like the rest of Clarion's neat uniform. The heat was murdering, especially being so close to the sun god—and no, she doesn't mean that he was 'so hot that it hurts.' He was literally radiating heat, because the source of life's energy was still running.

"'Course I am, doll." He said, grinning at her. His teeth were pearly white, and his eyes were invisible behind his think, pitch black sunglasses. He was in his teenager form, the type that made passing mortal women blush and giggle when he gave them a charming smile (which happens _all the time_, thank you very much). He leaned against the car, his arms crossed on his muscular, well built chest. With a slight flick of his hand, the car door swung open. The cool air from the air conditioner seemed so inviting, almost pulling her in.

Rachel felt a slightly jump in her heart, but furiously waved it off. Apollo was _not_ flirting, he was just being himself.

"'Kay then," She mumbled, wondering if she really had a choice in the matter. Before settling in the cat, she raised her eyebrow at him. Apollo knew very well when Rachel raises _the eyebrow _at anyone, she was dead serious.

Even he noticed, on their way to Long Island, that he was soaring through the cloud incredibly slow.

_4.) Compliment her._

Even Rachel Elizabeth Dare didn't look so flattering in ratty jeans, maroon XL _Goode_ t-shirt, and spattered with paint.

He found her rubbing her temples, eyes shut tightly, pain flickering across her coated face. Her frizzy red hair was an absolute mess; evidence shown that she took no time in trying to make it neatly. She was, head to toe, covered with paint. The amused god thought he could identify all the color of the rainbow splashed on her.

Apollo slid down next to her, leaning against the school's wall. When she made no effort to greet him, he let his eyes fall on the brightly colored posters of her former school. All he knew, honestly, was that she was trying to return to Goode's art club. Of course, she did this behind her father's back.

"Rachel?"

Her green eyes, the only part of her body that wasn't plastered, flickered open. She seemed a bit surprised that he suddenly appeared right next to her, when a second ago she was alone in the halls, cursing her stupid, clumsy self.

She laughed gently and calmly, and nodded at the tipped ladder. Heat rose on her cheeks.

Apollo smirked, setting off serious surge of anger in Rachel.

"I know I look like a complete idiot—let's just get on with the laughing." Groaned the distressed girl, continuing to rub her sore neck.

"Nah, you don't look like a _complete _idiot." He said sarcasm in his voice. "I bet only you could pull off looking pretty and being an idiot at the same time."

Not exactly a compliment, but definitely worked. Apollo hid a grin when he saw her shocked face.

_3.) Save her._

Apollo was looking forward to something big, heroic—like a Fury zooming towards the damsel in distress, or trapped in a cell with a villainous character keeping her hostage.

He had quite the imagination.

But disappoint stuck when he saw his chance of being a hero to Rachel was when a lanky high school boy asked her out.

She, of course, politely replied no.

This boy (Black, Jerome, student, five foot ten, and thief) scowled and asked again—in a threatening manner. Rachel frowned deeply, but composed a calm attitude. She said, slowly and quietly, that if he didn't get his skinny ass away from her, he would dreadfully sorry.

Apollo crossed his arms and leaned forward—watching above. He didn't come to the scene at first, letting Rachel take the lead.

A laugh from the sinister boy, and grabbed her arm. He looped an arm around her waist, trying to grab her bag. Apollo could read his thoughts; the boy somehow knew that there was big money in the girl's bag. Then again, she was a Dare.

The sun god growled.

He let himself settle in the street of New York, and walk like a normal person among the crowd. He could only predict what was happening. Turning around the corner, he sneaked into a small alley. The smell smacked him on the face, and the god had half the mind to run off. But he kept on walking. He saw the thief pressed a knife against her neck, little droplet of blood appear, as he looked through her pockets. Rachel made an attempt to jab her knee in his gut, but the boy yanked a fistful of her hair a bit too hard.

Apollo walked behind the boy, a small smile played on his lips. He saw the hope in Rachel's eyes, a sly smirk forming on her lips.

He grabbed the boy's shoulder, and raised an eyebrow.

"Please step away from the girl." He said, but forcefully pushed him to the side. The student fell on the filth of the ground, dirt of the typical New York streets, and mud splashing on to his cheeks.

"Came in the nick of time, did you?" scowled Rachel, looking a bit relieved. She, shaking uncontrollably Apollo noticed, stood straight up. Her freckles seemed like drops of blood upon her pale face. Apollo ran his fingers through his mattered blond hair and threw an arm around her shoulders.

"Doesn't a hero get a hug?" She looked perplexed. "Okay, how about a handshake?"

_2.) Relate with her._

A figure hunched at the edge of a balcony. Flaming red hair was let loose, fluttering in the night wind. She hated fighting, and all of her energy seemed to drain out of her.

All she wanted to do was continue her passion: Art.

Apparently, her controlling father refused to support such a 'ridiculous living'.

"Artist," he said, a frown appearing on his gray lips. "Go nowhere. Being successful in this world is hard these days, and you will stick with a reasonable profession."

She sighed, wiping the little tear drops that managed to slip through. The skyline of the city was beautiful that night, but a part of her felt slightly depressed that the little shine of the stars did not appear in the polluted sky.

"What is it, Apollo?"

She could feel the surprise of the god, who was hanging behind her. Rachel turned her head, sighing. Her green met locked with his blue ones, the fire in them died out a bit.

"Just wanted to check on my Oracle—my job, ya know?" He added a bit too quickly. He slumped next to her, stretching his arms. "Obviously, she is not doing well. What's up?"

And, shocking her too, Rachel poured her heart out about the latest problems in her life. A permanently disappointed father, hours of studying, lack of free time…

He didn't like this man who claimed to be her father. He had once offered to flash fry Walter Dare for her. He remembered Rachel staring at him for a long moment, uncertain if he was serious. Apollo whistled, looking truly impressed. "That's the life of a teenage mortal? Lame."

Rachel straightened, grinning a bit. "Oh? You have worse, sir 'all powerful being?'" Apollo desperately wanted to point out that there were no knights in Greek mythology.

"Well, the job of flying the sun everything day and night and keeping my field alive is nothing compared to SATs, right?" Another smirk. "Of course the competition. Gotta beat my sister in this kind of stuff, ya know?"

He stared at Rachel's face. Young, flawless…gorgeous.

She grinned at him. A short, quick moment passed through them when they locked eyes. She quickly turned away, obviously became a bit uncomfortable, but it didn't matter. Number one was slowly inching towards him.

_1.) Kiss her. _

"So…"

"So."

Apollo twisted his hands, feeling the strange pit in his stomach he hasn't felt in so many years. His mouth was slightly opened, trying hard to find the words to say. He was the god of poetry, for the god's sake! He could charm anyone with his loving limericks and soothing sonnets.

A warm breeze ripped through the air and the sun gave off a pleasant heat. The two stood by the entrance of her new dorm building. It wasn't really saying goodbye. No, until the spirit of the Oracle passed on to another, Rachel was stuck with him.

Apollo pressed his tongue in his cheek, tilting his head in wonder. He looked directly into the sun, not squinting a bit. What should he say? Maybe he should give her advice for her new life as a college student. He never went to college himself, but got a couple of tips from rowdy parties. He nodded, satisfied with what he was going to say, but he did the wrong thing.

Apollo leaned in close to her, smelling her jasmine perfume, which she wore in hopes of appearing more adult-like. Her red curls that surrounded her red pressed against his cheek and it was soft, silky. His eyes were shut tight, and his mind tried its best to visualize Rachel's expression:

_And Rachel has her eyes close, a smile forming on her glossed lips. Her hands could barely stop shivering from the excitement of kissing her love, Apollo…_

_SMACK!_

Apollo sputtered, pulling back. He put a hand on his cheek, his mouth dropped open. Rachel seemed surprised too; her jaw would probably hit the ground if it didn't connect with the rest of her head. Her bright green eyes, a certain color he admired even in that moment of shock, were wide and scared. It took him a while to register the pass events.

Rachel slapped him.

Now her words of true apologies were nothing but pure murmurings when Apollo dazed out. He realized that Rachel Dare was no typical teenage girl, and his moves did not have the desired effect on her. Maybe just time will do the trick. She was special.

"Hey," he said, lifting her chin, "No worries, hon."

He would just have to make a guide to Rachel Elizabeth Dare.

* * *

_There you have my one sided Apollo/Rachel. Maybe, just maybe, a small part of me support them. Just small though.... real small. You-need-a-microscope-to-see-it small. This also happens to be my entry for **ShadowPalace and WindowChild's PJO One-Shot Challenge.**_

_Thanks, and review! _


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